


Good, Giving, Game

by Mus_musculus



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: Alien Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, fluff with canon-typical death visions???, working title was 'birthday anal'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-05 20:10:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12801441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mus_musculus/pseuds/Mus_musculus
Summary: Londo indulges G'Kar.





	Good, Giving, Game

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in that vague "I dunno, they spend a lot of time at the palace together!" AU that we're all so fond of when we want to write implausible fluff for this pairing without having to do any actual work.
> 
> I don't really know how to tag for this, but if you're sensitive about the idea of sex that's consensual and affectionate but also kinda one-sided that's like...a kink I have....

G’Kar woke gently into warm, golden light.

 

Eyes closed, one arm still wrapped around his bedmate, he basked in that light, allowing his consciousness to return from the dreaming world at its own languid pace. As it climbed back into his skin, G’Kar began to note the quality of the light reaching his eyelids- not red light like the sun on Narn, not white light like Humans and Minbari preferred, but a shimmering golden light- morning light through the palace windows in their bedroom on Centauri Prime, in fact, and _that_ meant that it was midsummer. When he remembered the date, he smiled to himself, fully awake at last.

 

He opened his eyes.

 

“Londo”, he said. The other figure beside him in their ornate bed didn’t stir.

 

“Mollari”, he said, louder, tightening his grip. There was a muffled noise of protest, and the blanket was pulled further up over Londo’s face.

 

G’Kar grinned, and ducked under the covers to press his face up to Londo’s ear.

 

“Its my birthday”, he said gleefully, and licked him.

 

There was a groan. “Great Maker, G’Kar, it is barely dawn.”

 

“On Centauri Prime, maybe. On Narn it has been my birthday for nearly 7 hours already.”

 

“How remarkably patient of you to let me sleep at all.”

 

“I live to serve.”

 

An incredulous snort. G’Kar worried Londo’s ear with his teeth. After a moment, he tried again.

 

“Do you remember what you said?”

 

Londo lowered the blanket, giving in to being awake, and rolled his eyes at G’Kar.

 

“Yes, you shameless beast. _Now?_ ”

 

“Now.”

 

“You do realize that this is a one-time offer, not an all-day pass? If you waste your chance in the morning I’m not going to put up with you moping about for the rest of the day, making pathetic eyes at me.”

 

G’Kar pressed closer and kissed his neck. “You are never a waste.”

 

Londo waved him off with a “Bah!”, hiding the helpless flush of affection he felt towards the Narn in his bed. G’Kar, the universe would perhaps be surprised to know, was a sweet talker.

 

Dirty talker too, when the mood took him, but that would not come as a surprise.

 

“Let me at least bathe and get a cup of _jala_ , hmm?”

 

G’Kar hummed agreeably and released him, rolling onto his back to watch Londo with lidded eyes. _He’s_ _really_ _just going to lie there and wait for me,_ Londo thought, amused, as he shuffled out of their bedchamber. He couldn’t deny that there was something compelling about that, about G’Kar so single-minded in his attentions. There was something of the old days about it it, back when the cessation of hostilities between them and the revelation of their mutual interest was so astonishing that they had to be capitalized upon immediately, and as often as possible.

 

This arrangement of theirs- the ridiculous birthday one- had been Londo’s idea, unbelievably enough. Another moment of fond weakness. G’Kar had always been notoriously adaptable when it came to interspecies sexual relations, and was long used to certain Centauri...quirks. Narns worked quite differently, but after years of sneaking in and out of Centauri beds, G’Kar had managed to train his body almost entirely out of its instinctive desire to move during sex. His hips remained politely still even when Londo used his mouth on him, which he gave every appearance of enjoying.

 

But the key word was _almost_ entirely. Londo had gotten him worked up once, a few months back. The details of the memory had faded, he thought, pouring himself a cup of _jala_ from the pot which had been left at their door by servants who knew his daily habits by heart. But for whatever reason G’Kar had been inflamed, and had lifted Londo the way he did sometimes when he was feeling exuberant, pressing him up against the wall and kissing him. Londo had felt his usual sick thrill of excitement at the reminder of G’Kar’s strength, and then with surprise he had felt the thrust of G’Kar’s cock against him, like the motion of waves. Once, twice, thrice- and then he had stilled himself, apologetic. Londo had no desire to be rutted against, but in that moment it struck him as sad, unfair even, that G’Kar- who was just as much a hedonist as Londo himself- remained always so self-controlled in this way.

 

In a fit of impulsivity he had pressed his hips back against his lover and said, breathlessly, “G’Kar, when is your birthday?”

 

G’Kar, bewildered by the interruption, had paused to mentally convert between calendars, and then named a Centauri date some months in the future. Londo had swallowed thickly, and said, “Remind me, when it comes, and I’ll let you fuck me again.”

 

G’Kar did not have eyebrows, but his brow ridges had rolled upward. They had stopped trying that particular act ages ago, when it had become clear that Londo was simply not equipped to enjoy it. G’Kar swore up and down that he had met Centauri who did enjoy _svoga_ penetration, but Londo couldn’t imagine why, or how. There was simply nothing down there- no interesting glands, no sensitive tissue. The act had all the eroticism of one’s partner repeatedly sticking their finger up one’s nose.

 

“That’s- generous of you”, G’Kar had said, surprised but not about to turn down the offer.

 

Londo had shrugged. “I’m a generous man”, he had said, and G’Kar had laughed heartily and teased him, and they had gone to bed, and pleased each other the normal way, if there was a ‘normal’ for this particular affair.

 

But Londo had not forgotten. Clearly, G’Kar had not either.

 

Presently Londo returned to bed, clean, damp, and naked, carrying his _jala_. As soon as he took a sip and set it down on the bedside table G’Kar rolled on top of him, also naked. He was heavy as usual, as if the gods had crafted Narns of denser material than Centauri. Metal, perhaps, smelted with Centauri fire. It was a ridiculous thought, and not one he chose to share, out of an acquired faculty for self-preservation.

 

G’Kar held him close and rocked gently against him, his cock pressing into Londo’s stomach. Londo’s _brachiarti_ unfolded automatically in welcome, greeting G’Kar enthusiastically without his conscious direction. They had a way of doing that sometimes, for people they liked. It made Londo feel sheepish, exposed, as they coiled around G’Kar’s back of their own accord, seeking openings they would not find. He gently redirected them, retracting much of their length. Greedy things. They weren’t the focus, this morning.

 

“You don’t have to put them away.”

 

Londo shrugged as best as he could, horizontal and pinned under G’Kar’s weight. “Later, perhaps? They’ll only get in the way.”

 

“Suit yourself.”

 

G’Kar kissed him again, deeply, and as Londo responded he could not help the direction of his thoughts once more to how strange it was to be on such familiar, intimate terms with this man’s face and mouth; his blunt teeth, his protruding chin, his bright red eyes, the texture of his thick skin. The last face he would ever see, if his dreams were to be believed. And yet somehow it wasn’t terrifying anymore, or alien. It was just G’Kar.

 

The individual in question, hard and antsy, shifted uncomfortably against Londo, and Londo smacked him on the back of the thigh.

 

“Get a move on, already!” he groused. “I know you’re dying to open me up.”

 

He had left this (especially gross) part for G’Kar, who did indeed seem to enjoy it, judging by the way he groaned and scrambled off of Londo to get the lube.

 

Settling back on the bed, G'Kar took hold of Londo’s ankles and pushed them up and out, bending his knees and exposing him in a way that still felt wholly bizarre. Why anyone would want to sit and look at his _svoga_ was utterly beyond Londo.

 

But G’Kar was grinning at him, almost giddy with the novelty of it, so why not? Let him have his fun. They were both usually chattier than this in bed (and everywhere else) but Londo found it difficult to think of anything witty to say while lying vulnerable on his back, G’Kar’s slick fingers teasing at his reluctant orifice. He was kept busy remembering to breathe and relax, resisting the urge to clamp down with the muscles of his pelvic floor.

 

G’Kar, meanwhile, was oddly solicitous, crooning nonsense to him as he worked his fingers inside, stroking Londo’s quivering thighs. His attentiveness would have been irritating, were this part not so strange and overwhelming. As G’Kar slicked him up Londo clutched at him, the blankets, the sheets- whatever was in reach.

 

Londo didn’t know what criteria G’Kar used to judge him ready, but eventually he removed his hand and bent down swiftly to blow a stream of air against Londo where he was wet and open, pulling away before Londo could kick him in the head for it. The sudden shock of cold made him gasp, and G’Kar chuckled. He was still in that godsdamned fey mood of his, playful and domineering. Using every trick he knew to get a reaction, any reaction.

 

To spite him, Londo rolled over onto his stomach and picked up his cup up again, sipping with exaggerated casualness. He heard G’Kar’s feet hit the floor, and a second later it was snatched out of hands and replaced on the table.

 

“Ah”, Londo said. “so now you are ready to settle down and stop playing games, hmm?”

 

Instead of replying, G’Kar lunged for him, rolling Londo onto his back and pressing his shoulders against the bed with gleeful ferocity. He got his arms under Londo’s thighs and hoisted them up as if Londo weighed nothing instead of a solid 1.7 _cint_ _rono_. Freeing one hand, he guided his cock to Londo’s opening and pressed in unceremoniously, groaning into Londo’s neck.

 

Ah, gods, it was strange! Londo cried out as G’Kar slowly sheathed himself. His _svoga_ , sensitive to temperature and pressure if not much else, clenched wildly around the hot, firm intrusion, trying to make sense of it.

 

G’Kar rested above him for a moment, arms braced against the bed, head hung down so their foreheads almost touched.

 

“May I move?” he asked through gritted teeth, when Londo had adjusted.

 

“Suit yourself”, Londo tossed back at him archly, and then grabbed G’Kar’s arm to brace against the force of the thrust. He hooked his legs together around G’Kar’s back and hung on for dear life. It was so wildly different from sex as Londo knew it. This fierce rhythm, the push and pull of it, this singular point of insertion, their bodies so close and yet so disconnected.

 

The last time they tried this, G’Kar had still been trying to get Londo off with it, fellating his brachiarti, making constant adjustments to their position, searching for mutuality. This was...different. It seemed as if G’Kar had accepted that this was a gift. He was after his own pleasure now, the way Londo had wanted so badly to see. It was just as agreeable as he had imagined.

 

The fluttering of his brachiarti came as a shock. Pinned as he was, Londo could do nothing to address it. But G’Kar must feel it against his chest- ah yes, there, he broke out of his reverie and looked down, the curve of a smile on his lips. The depths of Londo’s sudden adoration for him, combined with that shaky, indefinite arousal, was almost overwhelming.

 

G’Kar looked him straight in the eyes and didn’t touch him. Londo gasped, rolling his hips into the next thrust. His arousal was still distant, something incorporeal and forever just out of reach. He let it stay that way, letting the tips of his brachiarti twitch and press haphazardly against G’Kar, but making no move to touch himself. Instead he stroked G’Kar’s face, his back. Watched his mouth drop open as he chased his climax in Londo’s body.

 

“That’s it _lissero_ ” he found himself saying, utterly without thought. “There you go. You have me. I’m yours.”

 

G’Kar shuddered and came undone over him, inside him. That was another filthy, unfamiliar feeling, Narn come inside him. G’Kar was winded (out of shape in his middle age, hah). Londo could feel it in every part of his body; the bite marks on his neck, the pulsing ache as G’Kar’s always-hard cock rested within him, the strain in his legs and in his back from the position he’d been holding. It was strangely satisfying. When G’Kar moved to pull out he almost protested, but let him go, wincing.

 

The Narn flopped down next to him, eyes closed, satisfaction pouring from his lazy, sated body.

 

“You’re welcome”, Londo said.

 

G’Kar cracked open his real eye. “You know, Narns celebrate two dates”, he said. “Once when we’re born, and another, about six months later, when we’re old enough to leave the pouch for the first time.”

 

“Don’t push your luck. In six months I’ll _still_ be sore.”

 

“What if you did me?”

 

“I already do that all the time.”

 

“Not like this!” G’Kar, always a sickening morning person, had apparently already regained his breath. He got up and went to the dresser, rummaging through the bottom drawer.

 

He emerged triumphant with a long, dark wood box, and tossed it at Londo, who pried open the lid with trepidation. Inside was a fairly realistic replica of a Narn cock, and a pile of leather straps.

 

“Absolutely not.”

 

G’Kar pouted.

 

“All that thrusting looks _exhausting_.”

 

“Oh, but think of how happy I’d be.”

 

Londo thought about it, about switching places. G’Kar was so much more _responsive_ to that kind of stimulation.

 

“I suppose...once a year couldn’t hurt.”

 

G’Kar crowed in victory, then returned to bed and snuggled up close. “Its your birthday soon, if I recall correctly. What do _you_ want?”, he asked, voice dripping with lechery.

 

There was nothing he could possibly ask for that G’Kar would not try enthusiastically on any day of the year. He was living with a shameless libertine. And a good, generous man. So much better than he deserved. _Stay_ , Londo thought, fervently. _Let me be wrong about what_ _will_ _happen_ _between us_ _. Don’t come to your senses, don’t remember that I deserve death at your hands. I_ _just_ _want you to stay._

 

“I want you to get up and make me a fresh cup of _jala_ ”, he said, and G’Kar did.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Centauri language notes:
> 
> 'Svoga' is a riff on 'sfogo', the Italian for 'vent', which is itself the casual term for 'cloaca', which is Latin for 'sewer'.
> 
> Wikipedia claims that the old Italian unit 'cantaro' weighed roughly 150 pounds, and I don't really care enough to double check that, since I just needed a number.
> 
> 'Lissaro' is an endearment cobbled together based on words like 'tesoro' (Italian: treasure) and 'listo' (Spanish: clever). Londo's too embarrassed to tell you what it means.


End file.
